Fang Heng blinked and stood where he was.

“…”

A demon-horse, being led by Deputy Commander Hong.

In front of it, twenty-some golden-eagle Commanders back from Qingfeng Mountain stood on both sides of the young man with expressions of formal gravity.

The two Inner Division women handling the External Affairs Hall today removed items one by one and placed them with careful hands into their colleagues’ keeping.

First: a cloak, neatly folded, wide-sleeved and floor-length, smooth to the touch, the fierce wolf devouring the moon emblazoned on it — the Outer Division’s mark, carrying a certain air of killing intent.

Then a jade-clasped belt. Then a gilt openwork wolf-pattern hair crown, stately and imposing.

“They’re making him a Deputy Commander!”

The crowd of Commanders who’d gathered expecting some kind of urgent business — thinking someone must have ridden a demon-horse into the compound for a reason — discovered they were watching a promotion instead.

The envy arrived without permission.

Qingfeng Mountain was dangerous, yes — enough to leave ordinary people sleepless at the thought of being assigned there — but for practitioners with real ability, it had apparently turned into an opportunity that couldn’t be manufactured. The advancement was fast.

Then the second Inner Division woman produced another new ink-black uniform.

The Commanders glanced at it, started to look away — and went rigid. They looked back.

On the collar of the uniform was an embroidered symbol: the yin-yang fish.

Yin-yang. Heaven and earth.

The exclusive mark of General Chen Qiankun, one of the twelve Demon Suppression Generals.

“…”

Throats moved involuntarily. The crowd went quiet. The excited expressions of people watching something interesting drained away quickly — and when eyes met neighboring eyes, a faint charged quality appeared between them.

What a personal attendant Deputy Commander represented could be summarized in four words.

Made it through.

Mountain-crossing accomplishments. Ability beyond question. No more need to prove anything.

From here on: no more tracking demons through wilderness, no more days with the neck on the line. Just following a Demon Suppression General, setting camp, watching the great demons outside Qingzhou’s twelve prefectures.

Mutual deterrence with those demons. Neither side crossing into the other’s territory.

For the Commanders under such a person — the comfort was difficult to overstate. Sentry duty most days, actual combat perhaps once in several years. Enough time served, and the credit of garrison duty was nothing to look down at.

And if this new attendant Commander was willing to bring a few people along—

In an instant, a wave of Outer Division Commanders pressed forward with expressions that had gone visibly warm.

Bai Ziming raised an eyebrow faintly, surprise entering his eyes.

Fang Heng’s face had gone through a change. The delight at seeing the Deputy Commander’s cloak had shifted when he caught sight of that yin-yang fish emblem — something not quite right in the expression now, a thread of disappointment that couldn’t quite be hidden.

“We—! Congratulations to Commander Shen on his triumphant return and his three-grade promotion!”

The golden-eagle Commanders who weren’t holding garments stepped back slightly, then bowed in unison, voices carrying.

In their lead, over a hundred Commanders — Inner Division and Outer Division alike — made the same gesture. Even Hong Lei in the distance had let the teasing go from his face, released the reins, and clasped his hands seriously. “Congratulations, Commander Shen!”

“Why are you looking at me? Do you not have hands?” Bai Ziming glanced at Fang Heng beside him.

“…”

Fang Heng dangled both arms and worked at producing some movement.

Bai Ziming raised his own palms with resigned acceptance, privately concluding he should not have left the cottage today.

Among the General’s disciples, the highest position any of them held was Deputy Commander — there was no precedent for becoming someone else’s personal attendant. Even Martial Elder Sister Jiang had taken the Yushan Prefecture General position by force, after the previous General’s death, through sheer bloody suppression of the city.

Which meant — Bai Ziming registered with mild dismay — his own rank was actually somewhat lower than Shen Yi’s.

He exhaled quietly.

Jumping directly from Commander to personal attendant Deputy Commander — even with a Condensate Realm flood dragon at Qingfeng Mountain, that would only be enough if you’d taken the killing blow personally. What, did the Demon Suppression General go to Qingfeng Mountain for a pleasant stroll? Not a single credit to show for it?

“Did the old General lose his mind? This person has been in the Division for under a month. What is he just handing out?”

Hong Lei’s head snapped toward the speaker. Then he heard the second half.

His expression froze. “Wait — what?”

A month.

Oh no.

Hong Lei’s heart rate jumped.

Which damned Deputy Commander was responsible for this — basically dead in bed and couldn’t be bothered — lazy as a dog — bringing in someone like this without a single word of warning—

Whether the old General knew or not was unclear. What was clear was that none of them, not one of the Deputy Commanders, had even considered this.

There was a fairly important reason for that, which was—

Not even a month in, hasn’t received a single salary payment — what are you risking your neck for?!

“…”

Shen Yi looked around at the gathered faces in silence. Something about it didn’t sit easily.

After a moment he asked anyway. “What about the techniques and medicines?”

Every Commander blinked. Then expressions went faintly strange.

One of the Inner Division women covered a smile and gently moved a few colleagues aside, inviting Shen Yi into the Hall, walking behind the great counter and producing a sheet of paper. “Whatever Commander Shen needs, I’ll note it down. Once everyone is back and the credits are tallied, we’ll have it delivered immediately.”

“Anything?” Shen Yi looked over with some surprise.

His mental estimate hadn’t been high, frankly. Hong Lei’s original offer had been one lower-grade Jade Liquid technique. He’d captured Dai Bing and the administrator, killed the caiman, and helped collect the flood dragon’s head.

Three to five books, at least?

“Uh—” the woman hesitated, “—if it’s Jade Liquid mid-grade techniques, we do have a selection, though the ones suited to you might be limited. As for upper-grade, the Hall only has one volume—”

“I haven’t decided yet. Could I—” Shen Yi looked up with mild interest and cleared his throat, “—see them all? I’d like to look through carefully.”

At that, several Inner Division Commanders immediately looked uncomfortable and began working through the phrasing.

“Commander Shen — there have been precedents of practitioners with total recall, trained specifically by outside interests and sent in to steal techniques. That’s why a rule came into effect. We’re absolutely not suggesting Commander Shen has anything like that in mind — obviously not — but rules are still rules.”

The Division’s wealth was real, but it depended on what was being discussed.

The techniques and medicines here had come primarily from acquisition by other means.

What a great family had — the Division had tens or hundreds of times more. What no great family had — the Division couldn’t conjure from nothing.

Take Jade Liquid techniques, for instance. In ordinary jianghu terms, there wasn’t even a concept of “grade” attached to them.

Mid-grade was a term that had emerged when great families — with the resources and long lifespans to sink into such research — discovered that ordinary techniques still had room to develop, and produced things whose effectiveness exceeded any standard equivalent.

They were called mid-grade because something higher existed: the General’s five signature techniques, which were incomprehensible to most people in a different way.

The Four Harmonies True Astral Force, for instance — a technique that could pour decades of accumulated reserves into a short span of time. Most people who encountered it couldn’t make use of it even if they received it. Carefully stored jade liquid was for pushing strength and speed, reinforcing the body and the weapon’s qi. At most, a sword qi or blade qi.

A technique that provided vast additional channels for spending qi — dense, difficult to interpret, and few people had enough to run it at meaningful scale.

After all, crossing into Jade Liquid Perfection added a hundred years of life. Even with medicinal support, rebuilding depleted reserves took serious time. Who was going to gamble with that?

The collective effort of the entire Qingzhou Division had gone toward what mattered most — the internal arts. And after all that, they’d derived the Thunder-Wind Solar-Fusion Scripture, which had stunned all twelve prefectures.

“That’s fair.”

The small scheme hadn’t worked.

Shen Yi let a very minor disappointment settle without showing it. “Body-refinement techniques. Movement arts.”

The two Inner Division women went briefly still at the first three words.

Wasn’t that a coincidence — was he after that specific upper-grade technique—

“Commander Shen — are you familiar with the Jingang School?”

“Small sect. Second-tier, arguably.”

(End of Chapter)